


true love comes quietly

by Daecyan_Shikoba



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 14:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16996947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daecyan_Shikoba/pseuds/Daecyan_Shikoba
Summary: a snapshot series of love





	true love comes quietly

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr in light of tumblr's nonsense
> 
> this was a prompt from stuckony anon based on:  
> Holding hands|one falling asleep with their head in the other’s lap|cuddling in a blanket fort|one character playing with the other’s hair/back scratches|rubbing shoulders|accidentally falling asleep|slow dancing
> 
> title comes from:  
>  _“True love comes quietly, without banners or flashing lights. If you hear bells, get your ears checked."_  
>  \- Erich Segal

1.

Bucky sits down nervously, eyes darting around the workshop, and Steve shoots him a reassuring smile. Tony’s in the middle of a one-sided argument with DUM-E, and that, oddly, helps settle Bucky’s nerves more than anything else. The handlers and technicians were cold and callous and quiet when they worked on him. This is  _different._

“Okay, fine,” Tony tells his bot, “be that way.” He turns to smile brightly at Bucky, and the breath catches in Bucky’s throat. Steve was  _right_ , Tony’s smile is like the fucking sun. Absolutely unreal.

“I hope that bot wasn’t vital to this or nothin’,” he jokes, because he doesn’t know what else to do, how else to respond to that smile. His joke makes Tony’s smile widen, and Bucky’s heart skips several beats.  _Oh shit_.

“Nah, I was just telling him there’s  _no need for the fire extinguisher_. He’s pouting about it,” Tony gives DUM-E a fond look, and the bot seems like it’s  _scowling_  back at him. 

“DUM-E’s just tryna be helpful, Tony,” Steve teases, eyes twinkling, and Bucky’s missed that look in his eye. It’s been missin’, Stevie too busy worryin’ about Bucky to be lighthearted.

“Ah-huh,” Tony chuckles, “you keep telling yourself that, Cap.” He claps his hands, and directs his attention back to Bucky. “So, you ready, freezer pop?”

Bucky gives him a nervous half-smile and a nod. “Yeah, yeah m’ready.”

“Okay,” Tony says, and scoots his chair up to Bucky, “want me to talk you through what I’m doing?”

“I…yeah, could you?” It’d be nice, even more different from  _before_  than Tony’s already made it with his sunshine smile and Steve’s teasin’.

Tony’s smile softens, like he understands, and. Huh. Bucky thinks he probably does, knowing what he knows about how Tony got the arc reactor. Tony starts babbling as he picks up tools, delicately peeling off individual plating on Bucky’s arm at the shoulder connection, explaining what he’s doing and why. Bucky lets Tony’s voice flow over him, and before he knows it Tony’s disconnecting the last parts of the arm and pulling it away.

The tension in his back and shoulder is  _gone_ , and Bucky blinks back tears. He’d never really realized how  _heavy_  the arm was, nor how badly it’d been hurting him. Steve reaches out and grips Bucky’s hand, laces their fingers together and gives him a gentle squeeze. Tony smiles at them, setting the arm down on a nearby table, and comes back with the new arm he’d designed for Bucky.

“If you’re ready for your new arm,” Tony grins, holding it up, and starts quoting a movie he says is called  _Toy Story_. “We’ll have to watch it sometime, freezer pop. You’ll probably get a kick out of it.”

Steve keeps holding his hand as Tony attaches the new arm, and Bucky’s  _awed_  when the final connections are in place. There’s no pain, it’s not too heavy, hell, he doesn’t notice it the way he had the other one. Tony sits back with a smile, clearly pleased, and Bucky reaches out with his new hand to grip Tony’s gently.

Tony’s eyes go wide and shocked, but he doesn’t pull his hand away, lets Bucky lace their fingers together as he stares at them.

Steve’s smile is blinding, splitting his face, and Bucky’s never been happier with his decision to turn himself in to Steve than in that moment.

2.

Steve finds them in the media room not long after midnight, the over sized tv playing some animated movie about robots in space. Steve’s seen it before, with Tony. Tony’s tucked into the corner of the couch, legs kicked out, feet propped up on the coffee table, and Steve has to bite his tongue to keep from telling Tony to put his feet down. It’s Tony’s coffee table after all. Bucky’s sitting next to him, staring at the screen raptly. It looks like they’re maybe holding hands, and it’s the cutest damn thing Steve’s seen in a long while. His fingers itch for a pen and paper, but he’d much rather be sitting there with them.

So he does.

“There you are, capsicle,” Tony says brightly, and drops his feet down as he shuffles down the couch closer to Bucky so Steve can have the corner seat.

“Hey sweetheart,” Steve greets, and drops down onto the couch. He ignores the narrow-eyed look Tony gives him for that, because it amuses him more than anything that Tony can’t figure out who Steve’s talking to. “You enjoyin’ the movie, Buck?”

“Mm-hmm,” Bucky hums, turns his head to shoot Steve a little smile, “Tony said he’s gonna build me a WALL-E.”

“He’s gonna follow Bucky around like a duckling,” Tony adds, and squirms around until he’s situated comfortably between the two of them. 

Steve loves that Tony’s put himself between him and Bucky, loves that Tony’s not afraid to be near Bucky or let Bucky into his personal space the way he does. He loves that Tony - who is so touch-starved yet so so careful with physical affection - holds Bucky’s hand, comforts him with soft touches and shoulder bumps. It makes Steve’s heart swell in his chest.

“I don’t understand, why are we just automatically assumin’ that other robot’s a dame? Why’re we assumin’ WALL-E’s a boy? They’re  _robots_ ,” Bucky says a little while later, frowning fiercely at the tv.

Tony chuckles sleepily, bumping his forehead gently against Bucky’s shoulder. “How progressive of you, freezer pop.”

“What?”

“We haven’t covered gender stuff yet,” Steve says, and smiles at the confused look Bucky sends him.

“The hell’re you talkin’ about?” Bucky demands, “I’m talkin’ about  _robots_ , and  -”

“Goes hand in hand,” Tony interrupts around a yawn, “the gender stuff. S’like people calling cars and boats and shit ‘she’ and stuff. Our society has this propensity to gender everything.”

“Don’t worry, Buck, Sam an’ I’ll go over it with ya more,” Steve assures him, when Bucky sends him a slightly lost look. Steve understands, he’d been just as lost when he was learning to navigate this new world.

Tony slumps a little, until he’s propped up against Bucky’s shoulder, eyes drooping. Bucky gets a slightly panicked look on his face, eyes darting between the top of Tony’s head and Steve. Steve grins, lifts his arm to rest across the back so he can reach Buck, squeeze the back of his neck gently. If it works out that his arm’s slung across Tony’s shoulders in the process? Well, Steve’s not complaining.

“That can’t be good for his neck,” Bucky hisses a few minutes later, when Tony’s slumped further and his head’s cocked at an awkward and decidedly painful looking angle.

Steve agrees, and very gently maneuvers Tony until he’s more upright. Then he frowns, dissatisfied. He twists, lifts Tony up carefully, just high enough that he can scoot closer to Bucky, until their shoulders are pressed together, then lowers Tony back down so that he sprawls across their laps.

Tony makes sleepy noises, smiling blearily up at them. Steve blushes, startled. He hadn’t realized Tony was still awake. He feels abashed, manhandling Tony like that. Tony reaches up a hand, pats Steve’s face soothingly, wiggles until he’s more comfortable, then falls asleep.

Bucky stares at him with wide eyes, looking uncertain, unsure what to do with his hands. Steve reaches up to squeeze the back of Bucky’s neck again, then slides his arm the rest of the way around Bucky’s shoulders while the fingers of his other hand slip into Tony’s hair.

Tony’s the only one who wakes up the next morning without a crick in his neck.

3.

Eight months. He’s been dry for  _eight months_. Some days are harder than others, some weeks, some  _hours_. The times he wants to sleep but his brain won’t shut off, or when someone in the media draws comparisons between him and his father because Tony’s released a new gadget (and wasn’t that a kick to the ribs, when he realized he’d drown his daddy issues in booze). 

Today is a hard day. He’s been awake for thirty hours, and his brain’s still going. He’d accidentally overheard a stilted conversation between Steve and Bucky about the Winter Soldier, too, hours and hours earlier. Bucky’s remembering more and more, and it’s putting a strain on him, remembering the people he’s killed as Winter Soldier. People like Tony’s parents. That had been awkward, hearing Bucky’s worry that Tony didn’t already know, but Tony’s known since Nat dumped HYDRA-SHIELD’s files on the internet. So. Today is a hard day.

He wants a drink so bad he can almost taste it.

Instead, he builds a blanket fort in his workshop.

It doesn’t make him feel all that better, but it reminds him of Jarvis and nights of stealing all the blankets from the man’s bed just to make a fort in Tony’s overly large closet. It’s comforting, a little. A reminder of the only role model - outside Aunt Peggy who never got to come around all that often to begin with - who didn’t drink, and that’s helpful at least.

The fort’s done, though, and he still wants a fucking drink.

Tony goes up to his pent house, steals all the cushions off the couch and the pillows from his bed, and lugs them all down to the workshop. He arranges the cushions on the floor of the blanket fort, then the pillows up against the back wall the blankets are butted up against. He crawls in, once he’s satisfied with it, and curls up on top of the cushions, staring at the solid blue blanket that reminds him of Steve’s eyes. And Bucky’s, a bit, though Bucky’s are a darker shade than Steve’s.

That’s how Steve and Bucky find him, a couple hours later. Tony’s still wide awake, his brain still racing. At one point he’d broken down and gotten his tablet to work on, but now it’s sitting next to his head, the screen dark.

“Tony?” Steve calls, concern lacing his voice.

“You alright, Tony?” Bucky calls at the same time.

With the mess of the workshop, it’s hardly surprising they hadn’t noticed the blanket fort. Plus, it  _is_  tucked away in the back corner. Tony’s not sure if he wants them to see it or not, if he wants them to find him.

“JARVIS said you were in here,” Steve calls when he gets no response.

“’Least let us know you’re okay,” Bucky adds.

Tony winces, feeling guilty and angry about feeling guilty and guilty about being angry about it. He wants a drink,  _shit_. He pushes himself up, shuffles over to the opening, and sticks his head out of it. Steve and Bucky are standing in the middle of the workshop, faces concerned, and Tony clears his throat.

“Tony!”

“Hey,” Tony says, voice hoarse, and Steve’s face grows even more worried when he takes in Tony’s rough appearance. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“What’s wrong, Tony?” Bucky asks, walking over to the blanket fort, Steve on his heels.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Tony dismisses, but Bucky snorts in disbelief. “I am!”

“Tony…” Steve sighs, eyebrows drawing together in that sad puppy dog look Tony hates because it’s so unbelievably effective.

“I just,” Tony says, sighs, “it’s a hard day.”

“Hard day?” Bucky asks, face twisting in confusion.

Tony smiles wryly. “Yeah, a hard day. I want a drink.”

“Oh,” Steve says soft, understanding, “oh  _Tony_ , you coulda come an’ got me.”

“You were busy,” Tony mutters, and retreats back into the fort because he knows they’ll follow him in and really he’d much rather be inside the fort.

As he knew they would, Steve and Bucky both crawl in after him. Bucky still looks a little confused, and Tony realizes with a jolt that Bucky doesn’t know Tony’s a recovering alcoholic, that Bucky only knows certain aspects about Tony’s life. It’s so surreal, much like the way Steve’d refused to google Tony after that disastrous interaction on the helicarrier and Tony hadn’t known what to do with that level of respect for his privacy. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve says as soon as he’s settled inside the fort, expression earnest, “I’m not ever too busy for you, ‘specially when you’re havin’ a hard time.”

Tony’s breath catches, and he kind of wants to cry. He wants to know if Steve even  _realizes_  what it does to Tony, when he just throws pet names at him like that, when he says things like that like it’s all that easy. He swallows around the lump in his throat and sends Steve a shaky smile.

“Yeah, sure, but you were helpin’ Bucky,” he replies, and tries not to cringe at the sort of admission to overhearing at least a little of their earlier conversation.

Bucky’s face goes pale, but Tony reaches out to grip his left hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he sends Bucky a small smile. It’s just as shaky as the one he sent Steve, but this one is less forced so.

“It’s okay, freezer pop,” Tony says softly, “I’ve known since Nat dumped all that info while Steve was busy crashing helicarries into the Potomac.”

“Christ,” Bucky groans, turning his hand to lace their fingers together. “Fuck, Tony, why didncha ever say anything?”

“I had time to process it. Yeah, you killed my parents, but I’m betting you never would’ve done it if you hadn’t been brainwashed by nazis hellbent on taking over the world.”

Bucky chokes on a laugh, and Steve sends him a watery, relieved smile. That had been it’s own brand of awkward conversations between them, when Tony had brought it up with Steve all those months ago. Now, he’s vaguely surprised Steve hadn’t told Bucky that Tony already knew.

“C’mon,” Steve cajoles, then, shuffling a little so he can lay down and stretch out. 

Bucky seems to have an idea what Steve’s thinking, because suddenly he’s reaching out and manhandling Tony onto his side between them. Steve reaches out to them, and between them they mash Tony up against Steve’s side, his head resting on Steve’s chest. The steady thump of Steve’s heart is soothing, and Tony lets his eyes flutter shut as he listens to it. He’s just so  _tired_. Then Bucky’s there, spooning up against Tony’s back, his left arm thrown over Tony’s side, his hand pressing lightly on Steve’s stomach.

They’re quiet, and Tony lets the sound of Steve’s heart and Bucky’s breathing lull him to sleep.

4.

Bucky wakes up to fingers carding through his hair, and it takes him a disorienting moment to remember where he is and who he’s with. He can hear Steve talking in low tones somewhere nearby, and when he cracks his eyes open he finds his head’s in Tony’s lap, face smashed against Tony’s stomach. 

He watches Tony from the corner of his eye, warmth flooding him as Tony’s fingers scratch lightly across his scalp. The look on Tony’s face is so warm and fond, and Bucky wants to  _keep_  him. Forever. Him and Stevie both.

“Dinner’ll be around in thirty minutes,” Steve whispers, and Tony makes a sound of acknowledgement.

The couch dips a bit under Steve’s weight when he sits on the edge of the cushion by Bucky’s hips, and then Steve’s hand is there on his back, fingers stroking up and down lightly. Bucky shuts his eyes, pleased, and presses a small kiss to Tony’s abdomen because he can.

“If you’re gonna do that, you’d better get that spot between my shoulders, punk,” Bucky says fondly, voice muffled by Tony’s shirt, but he knows Steve hears him.

Steve chuckles, and then he’s scratching that place Bucky can never reach between his shoulders, just under the start of the metal plating of his arm. Bucky sighs in relief, and Tony chuckles softly, his fingers still in Bucky’s hair. It’s great, really.

“You have a nice nap?” Tony teases, and Bucky lifts his arm, presses his hand to Tony’s ribs.

“You betcha,” he says. “You’re awful comfortable, darlin’.”

“Told you,” Steve chimes in, and Bucky can just picture the flustered, stubborn look on Tony’s face at that.

“Yeah, sure,” Tony grumbles, “I’m as cuddly as a cactus.”

“Naw,” Bucky hums, “you’re like a kitten, kitten.”

“You know, Buck,” Steve laughs, “that’s an incredibly accurate description.”

“I resent that implication,” Tony protests, but his voice is soft and fond.

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky mumbles, patting Tony’s side, “whatever you say, kitten.”

“He’s going to call me kitten from now on, isn’t he?”

“Sure is, sweetheart,” Steve says, because Steve knows him so well.

Bucky grins.

5.

Steve goes looking for Tony, because he’s been hiding from him and Bucky since a couple nights before. He thinks he knows why, but it’s still frustrating. It’s like one step forward and two steps back, in this, and Steve can’t help but wonder sometimes if Tony’s just… Even  _more_  oblivious than they first thought. But Steve had thought they were being explicitly clear!

“JARVIS,” Steve calls as he steps into the elevator, “is the workshop  _occupied_.”

He’d tried asking JARVIS where Tony was earlier, of course he did, but JARVIS couldn’t say. JARVIS was clearly frustrated with Tony, Steve could tell by the disapproval in his voice, which Steve took to mean Tony was  _actively_  avoiding them.

“Indeed, Captain,” JARVIS replies, and Steve would swear he sounds  _relieved_. “If I may make a suggestion?”

“A’course, JARVIS.”

“The workshop’s food supply is rather low. Perhaps it would be prudent to restock.”

Steve curses under his breath. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, JARVIS. I’ll have Bucky bring some takeout in in a little while.”

The elevator doors open to the workshop’s floor, and the sight of the blacked out windows sucker punches Steve in the stomach. He can’t remember the last time Tony’d initiated blackout mode. It’s really not encouraging that he has now. 

He tries his override code, anyway. He’s not gonna give up. He’s too stubborn for that, really, and JARVIS’s implication that Tony’s not eaten lately combined with the blackout mode is too much for Steve to just leave alone. 

Thankfully, his code still works, and he sighs in relief when the door slides open with a soft hiss of air. 

Of course, the sound is covered by the music Tony has blaring so loud Steve’s ears ring with it, and he cringes as he steps into the shop. The overhead lights are dimmed, a soft amber emanating so low it’s almost pointless to have them on. Steve has a second or two to really wonder why Tony’s hiding in the dark before he actually spots Tony.

Tony’s hunched over a gauntlet on a workbench in the middle of the shop, beneath the bright white light of a nearby lamp. The vision makes Steve itch for a sketchbook and charcoal, right up until he spots the unopened bottle of scotch sitting on the workbench at Tony’s left elbow. Steve’s heart drops into his stomach, and the only thing that stops it from going straight to the floor is the clearly unbroken seal. Whatever Tony’s intentions were, having that bottle by his elbow, he hasn’t drank any. Steve wonders if maybe this is Tony punishing himself. 

It makes him want to wrap Tony up in his arms.

“Can you turn the music down, JARVIS?” Steve asks, and seconds later the music is playing at a manageable volume.

“Come on, J, I need the sound,” Tony complains around the screwdriver he’s got shoved in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve says, and tries not to feel defeated when Tony’s shoulders twitch and stiffen even more.

Tony pulls the screwdriver from his mouth and Steve watches as he very carefully sets it down before turning to send Steve an incredibly strained smile. Steve’s heart gives another lurch, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He feels like he’s standing on very thin ice, like one wrong move and whatever this is will shatter.

“What’s up, capsicle?” Tony asks, voice all forced cheerfulness.

Steve wonders how Tony ever fooled him into thinking he was okay before. “Nothing,” he says with a small smile, “just worried about you s’all. Haven’t seen ya in a couple days, wonderin’ if you were alright.”

“I’m fine, Cap,” Tony sighs, like he knows Steve knows that’s a lie. “M’just fine. No need to worry about me.”

“Tony,” Steve murmurs, eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Please?”

Tony’s shoulders slump in defeat, and he turns back around. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude? Tony, what - ?”

“You and Bucky,” Tony interrupts, and picks up the screwdriver again to make adjustments on the gauntlet. “You know, love of the ages, quite literally, and all that. I don’t…”

A horrible, sick, twisting feeling takes up residence in Steve’s stomach, and he realizes with a guilty jolt that there’s been some misunderstanding somewhere. The way Tony’s shoulders hunch up around his ears, the tight line of tension, tells Steve all he needs to know about what Tony’s thinking of himself. 

“Oh honey, no - Is that what you? - Sweetheart, no, you’re not intruding,” Steve breathes, and closes the last bit of distance between them to settle his hands gently on Tony’s shoulders. “I promise you you’re not intruding, that’s not what - I’m so sorry we made you feel that way.”

“Steve - ” Tony starts, hoarse, and bows his head. “ _Steve_.”

Steve squeezes the taught muscles under his hand, bends down to lean his forehead to the back of Tony’s neck, and sighs. “I swear it, Tony. Bucky and I shoulda been clearer, and I’m so sorry we weren’t. We wanna be with you, we wanna take you on dates and spend our nights with you and spoil you rotten even though you really don’t need it.”

Tony sucks in a breath, trembling, and then he’s twisting around, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and burying his face in Steve’s throat. Steve wraps his own arms around Tony’s shoulders and squeezes as tightly as he dares. He turns his head a bit to press a gentle kiss to the side of Tony’s head, then rests his cheek there.

This is how Bucky finds them thirty minutes later, a bag of takeout from their favorite Thai place in his hand.

6.

“Rhodey, you don’t understand, I can’t just show up to this date looking like I spent the last five days holed up in my shop!”

Rhodey gives Tony a look full of disbelief, and Tony pouts at him.

“You literally just came up from the workshop. For the first time in almost four days.”

“That’s beside the point!”

“Tones,” Rhodey says, “they’ve  _seen you_  when you’ve spent a week holed up in the shop, and they still wanna take you on a date. Relax.” Rhodey turns to Pepper, then, gesturing wildly at Tony.

“Rhodey’s right, Tony,” she tells him. “It’s too late to impress them with your stunning good looks.”

Tony gasps and clutches a hand to his chest dramatically. “Traitor!”

Pepper sighs, but there’s a fond smile on her lips. “You’re just watching movies in  _your living room_ , Tony. I’m pretty sure they’re hoping for comfortable clothes and couch cuddles.”

“And probably a little tonsil hockey,” Rhodey adds with an eyebrow waggle, and Tony makes an affronted noise.

“Don’t you dare use such language around me again, Rhodes.”

“Do you think Steve’s the type of guy who puts out so soon?” Pepper asks Rhodey, ignoring the strangled noise that earns from Tony. “This is technically their first official date.”

“I was just talking about making out,” Rhodey complains, “why you gotta bring up their hypothetical sex life? I don’t wanna think about that!”

“I’m standing  _right here_!” Tony protests, loudly, and throws his hands up when Pepper and Rhodey just smile at him. “Can we stop talking about my  _nonexistent_  sex life for a minute to figure out how to make me look presentable?”

“Are you really asking for help looking presentable?” Pepper asks, eyes widening, then looks at Rhodey.

Rhodey nods, a warm, fond smile spreading across his face. “Damn, Tones, I knew you liked them, but I didn’t realize you had it this bad.”

Tony makes a despairing noise and stomps his way into the bathroom. Pepper tsks and Rhodey sighs, but they both follow him, and Tony thinks he’s lucky he has them. They’re the best. The  _best_. 

“Shower, shave, maybe wear some deodorant - ”

“I wear deodorant! I do not smell!”

“ - and wear your comfiest clothes,” Pepper orders, then shakes her head. “Actually, I’ll pick them out. If I don’t you’ll just pick out your comfiest  _suit_ , and this is  _not_  a suit and tie date.”

Tony pouts, but starts stripping out of his tank top and jeans while Pepper leaves the bathroom to do just that. Rhodey turns to prop his butt up on the sink and crosses his arms over his chest as he contemplates his feet. Tony throws his tank top at Rhodey’s face, sticks his tongue out when Rhodey glares, and turns to start the shower.

“I’m really happy for you, Tony,” he says over the sound of water hitting tile. “I am, I see the way they make you smile, and I haven’t seen you smile like that in years. But don’t think for one second that I’m not giving them the shovel talk.”

“ _Rhodey_  - ” 

“Nu-uh, you’re not stopping me. You’re my best friend, and it’s in my best friend rights to give my best friend’s boyfriends the shovel talk.” And with that, Rhodey leaves him to his shower.

When Tony gets out fifteen minutes later, he finds a pair of sweats from MIT and his favorite  _Black Sabbath_  t-shirt on the sink with a note informing him Pepper and Rhodey have gone out to catch a late lunch with Natasha and Sam. Tony tries not to pout as he dries off and pulls the sweats on with only a brief moment to wonder if he should wear underwear, but Pepper had said to dress  _comfortably_  so.

He’s still got three hours until Steve and Bucky are set to show up, and he’s jittery. It drives him a up the wall, a little, that he’s this nervous about a  _movie date_. He’s spent  _hundreds of hours_  alone with them, individually and together, why is he so nervous about  _this_? 

The answer is obvious, of course, but he’s not letting himself think about that.

Tony wanders out into the pent house when he’s finished dressing, and he eyes the couch for several long minutes. It looks so inviting, and the engineering binge he’d been on is starting to catch up with him. He sits down, scowling at himself, and grabs a StarkPad off of the coffee table, pulling up specs for a new scope for Bucky’s rifle.

He wakes up to Mushu screaming, his head in Steve’s lap.

“Shit,” he groans, scrubs a hand over his eyes. “ _Shit_ , I’m sorry, I - ”

“Shh, s’okay, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs gently, threading his fingers through Tony’s hair. “JARVIS warned us you’d been awake for a long time.”

“And you looked so cute, stretched out on the couch,” Bucky adds from Steve’s other side. “We didn’t wanna wake you.”

“You should’ve,” Tony sighs, feeling disappointed in himself. “No, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. Our date - ”

“Has been perfect,” Steve interrupts, smiling softly at him. “We know how uneasily you sleep, darlin’, and you didn’t do much more than sniffle at us when we came in and got situated.”

“Well, I trust you,” he says, like it’s obvious. Because it is. If it’s not, Tony’s been doing something very wrong.

“If you wanna make it up to us,” Bucky says, “then stop lettin’ Steve be greedy and sleep on  _both_  of us.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Tony huffs, but sits up and crawls over Steve to sprawl across the both of them.

7.

“You gotta stop starin’ at Tony like that,” Bucky murmurs into Steve’s ear as they twirl around the dance floor at some charity gala the Avengers’d been invited to.

Steve’s hands tighten on Bucky, and Bucky laughs.

“He just looks so good, Buck,” Steve says, “and I just wanna carry him back home and peel him outta that suit.”

“You and me both, pal,” Bucky hums. “But first I think we oughta get a dance with him.”

“D’you think we could?” Steve asks, voice longing as he turns his head a bit to keep an eye on Tony. “We didn’t exactly talk about it, about being  _out_  about the three of us.”

Bucky pulls Steve a little closer to his body and turns his head to press his nose to Steve’s temple. “I want the world to know how lucky I am to have my best guys.”

Steve shivers, and his hold on Bucky tightens even more. “I do too, but we can’t just tell the world without asking Tony if he’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, morose. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t get a dance with him. I danced with Natasha earlier, and you had a dance with Pepper and Thor.”

“You,” Steve murmurs and turns his head enough to press his lips to Bucky’s cheek, “make a very good point.”

“A’course I do,” Bucky grins, and closes his eyes. He thinks that the greatest thing about this bright future is  _this_ , getting to dance with Steve without worrying about getting arrested for it, getting to show the world how much he loves this man in his arms. He can’t wait to show the world how much he loves Tony, too, even if the world’ll be less kind about it.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Tony says when the song ends, and Bucky and Steve pull back enough to both smile warmly at him. Tony’s eyes are twinkling with happiness and amusement and fondness and Bucky just wants to haul Tony somewhere private, dirty him up. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Who you stealin’ away, sugar?” Bucky asks and winks at him when Tony makes a face. He’s still not used to the pet names, no matter that he tosses them out at others. Bucky and Steve both think it’s a shame, because Tony clearly loves it when they call him sugar or sweetheart or darling or doll or baby or honey or the list goes on.

Steve lets go of Bucky to turn his body fully towards Tony, and Bucky hides a grin. Tony, for his part, just smiles brightly at him and gives a little bow that makes Steve huff and reach out to take lead. Bucky laughs at Tony’s indignant squawk and retreats to the bar to order a drink.

He leans against it as he waits, facing the dance floor so he can watch his boys dance. They’re beautiful, beneath the soft glow of the lights. Steve’s got his face bowed by Tony’s ear, and whatever he’s saying has Tony a little flustered. Bucky would bet his not inconsiderate fortune that Steve’s telling him how much he wants to peel Tony out of that suit.

They look so good together, fit together so damn beautifully. Bucky’s certain that come tomorrow there’ll be dozens of rumors in all the tabloids and thousands online, all speculating what’s going on, because there’s no way nobody misses the easy intimacy between Steve and Tony. It makes warmth pool low in Bucky’s belly and burn bright behind his ribs.

It makes him wish he had half the skill at painting that Steve’s got, because it’s truly a sight to behold.

The bartender clears her throat and passes the whiskey sour to him with a small, knowing smile, and Bucky grins back as he stuffs some money in the tip jar. He sips at his drink as he continues watching Tony and Steve, thinking about later tonight and the promising way Steve’s holding Tony close to him, hand possessive on Tony’s hip as he leads them closer to where Bucky’s camped out.

When the song comes to an end, Bucky knocks back the rest of his drink before setting it on the bar and strolling up to his boyfriends with a lazy grin. There’s a heat in Steve’s eyes, a glint of a promise, and Bucky hums happily as he takes Tony’s hand without so much as a by your leave. Tony heaves a put upon sigh when Bucky makes it clear he’s the one leading them, but he’s smiling happily so Bucky’s not too concerned about it.

After their dance, Bucky and Steve find Natasha and Sam, make their excuses, and drag Tony home with only minimal protesting on Pepper’s part that Bucky’s fairly certain is just a token one, considering the fond grin she’s shooting them as Steve fumbles an excuse for cutting out early. As downright dirty as Steve is, as  _shameless_  as he is, he’s still plenty easy to fluster.


End file.
